


emperor's new clothes

by Slie



Series: dead on arrival [2]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, really really dubious consent, sly no, well pretty much no consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slie/pseuds/Slie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz picks the wrong option. It goes about as well as you might think. (bad ends for dead on arrival)</p>
            </blockquote>





	emperor's new clothes

When Noiz surfaces from the memories of his Scrap, he’s shaking. He can hear Desire laughing above him, rich and full and nothing like Aoba’s ever sounded. It grates at his ears and fills up the void they're standing on, sharp and full of delight. 

Noiz passes his hands over himself, checking that he’s all still there. He can still feel the static and warp of that distorted space beneath his skin, can still feel the jangle of chains and the weight of metal around his wrists. It’s all he can do not to lose himself here in his own mind with the reminder of the locks and the numbness and the dark.

Desire sways in front of him, trying unsuccessfully not to double over from the backlash and his endless laughter, and with Noiz kneeling in front of him there’s something helplessly suggestive about it.

(There’s nothing there. It was just a memory. It was just-)

Desire cradles Noiz’s face in his hands, skin hot and dry like there’s a flame contained in his human skin. Noiz can’t help but lean into it, makes some kind of sound in his throat at the sensation. That earns him a wreck of a laugh, and blue and white hair spills over him as Aoba sways forward like a drunk and presses their foreheads together.

“Do you get it?” he asks, and his voice is as desperately fierce as it was that first time, before all of this. From back when Noiz trapped them both in an illegal Rhyme field, from the back alleys of Platinum Jail and the master bedroom of Noiz’s home and the doorway they fought in.

(Desire was there, the first time and before and then and now-)

“Do you get it yet?” Desire asks.

Noiz shivers, shudders, tries to draw breath. They don’t need to breathe in this place, he tries to remember, but he can’t stop shaking. He gasps like a dying man, like he’s drowning, like he’s never coming up to breathe.

He doesn’t- he doesn’t know what he wants anymore. He doesn’t know what to do, and Desire is falling apart in front of him.

"You can't leave, can you?" he asks. 

**┍—————————————————┑**

**don't leave me**

**┖—————————————————┙**

┍—————————————————┑

  y͍͉̰͖̫͉̎ͅouh̢͕̬ͮa̖̥̱̰̬̣͈ͧͯͣve̢t̶̟̤ͨ̐ͧ̔̽͌og̙͊̇̏̈́͂o̡̝̽͐b͎͈̻͓̫̊̍a̰̜̙̜̠̹ͮ̾ͧ́̓̓͒c̪̾ͥͪ̊͒́͋k

┖—————————————————┙

“You’re not Aoba anymore,” he says.

His voice breaks, and the world breaks with it.

 

—

 

He wakes up with an itch in his veins, and knows better than to open his eyes.

“Noiz? Noiz!”

…That’s right. That’s his name.

“Noiz, hey, are you okay? Noiz!”

“Aoba, give him some space.”

“But-!”

A shadow is cast over him, and Aoba’s panicked gaze is met by laughing gold.  

There’s a _thud_ as Granny drops something, out of sight.

“Your eyes,” Aoba breathes, pale and shaky. “They’re gold. Noiz, you-?”

Then Noiz laughs, jangling and full of delight, and Aoba falls on top of him.

Tae’s mournful “You lost, Noiz?” is the last thing Aoba hears for a long, long time.

 

—

 

There’s gold in his eyes and lips on his as everything goes to pieces, and Noiz is burning up with the heat of it. He’d scream if he knew why he was screaming, can’t tell if the little sound that escapes his lips comes from the pain or the pleasure.

He wants it to stop. He doesn't want it to stop. He wants- he doesn't know what he wants.

He doesn't want to be alone. 

_that’s right. that's fine. i can’t leave you._

There’s a whisper in his mouth that isn’t his, hands on his skin that don’t belong to him until he can feel the echo of them. They scratch at his back, catch and press at the plane of his stomach and the hollow of his hip. A little further down, insistent, and he lets go of the scream in his throat, lets go of everything. 

_you know who I am, don’t you?_

Noiz can’t help but arch into the body curled around him, again and again and finally he’s screaming into the void of his mind and everything is breaking, breaking free.

(He’s burning with Desire, now, and he can’t do anything but give in.)

 

—

 

“I’m Noiz,” he says dryly, and can’t help his grin. It’s sly and sharp on this face, and he likes the feel of it. It’ll look better with the piercings back, but he can’t do anything about that at the moment.

“At least,” he continues, “I’m Noiz now.”

He watches the last veneer of horrified understanding paint itself on Tae’s face, bites down a laugh at the triumph of it.

Damn straight she should be horrified. She drugged him back for years and years- she should be fucking scared of him.

She rallies, tries to draw herself up.

“Aoba-“

“I’m Noiz,” he cuts her off, smile fading a little at her stubbornness. He isn’t Aoba anymore. “Finders keepers, right? He took me in, it’s only fair I get a piece of him.”

(Someone shivers inside at that, lost and devoid of his own desire. That’s him now. That’s him. No one can take that away from him ever again.)

“That isn’t yours to take,” she tries, and Noiz laughs in her face, pulling himself roughly out of Aoba’s unconscious grasp. Tae steps in front of him.

“That isn’t your body, Aoba!”

He remembers the feel of himself under his hands, blue eyes wide and glazed and uncomprehending. Gives his body a deliberate once-over, pulling back up to meet eyes with the old woman.

“I see a body here. It’s mine.” he deadpans, and walks off.

He leaves Aoba limp and motionless behind him.

 

—

 

_do you get it yet? i’m not Aoba anymore._

He is Noiz, he’s in Noiz and it’s fire and acceptance and all he’s ever wanted. He pours himself over the rest of him, all gilt and sweat and summer sex, and feels himself burn.

_i’m desire._

He laughs into his own mouth and lets the rest of him grow numb, as dead and cold as Noiz’s sense of pain has ever been.

_i’m you._

— 

 

The world’s his for the taking, now.

“Get me a flight to Germany,” he tells Usagimodoki, activating them from where they’d been sleeping in Noiz’s belongings.

_“Pi! Affirmative!”_

Everything you’ve ever wanted, he promised himself in the heat and the moment of his rebirth. There’s no reason not to hold to it.

(Desire is so very grateful to himself. He wants to pay that back.) 

Maybe it’s time to pay their parents a visit.

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh. I have no idea where the Noiz/Sly fusion idea came from, but there you go. Think of him as Shiroba but with less blue hair and more piercings.  
> (I'm working on writing the true ending, I swear.)


End file.
